Hellfire
by Flameboo
Summary: Moltres has a terrible case of the deadly 'angst', and relies on a dark, gloomy Magby to cure him. The cure for the 'angst', though, is far worse than Moltres anticipated...


Oi. I'm Flameboo, lurker and writer of the Pokémon section. Previous I wrote a one-shot called _All in a Day's Work_, which was slightly unorthodox from regular one-shots. People who have read it will know what I'm saying (more or less). That said, this one follows a similar pattern.

The poem 'The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour' was written by Edgar Allan Poe. Not me. I don't own Pokémon.

In this one-shot you'll find a few nods to be previous story in the Pokémon section. References are all the rage now, eh?

_Please, fellow readers and writers, don't take this seriously._

**Please, take a bit of time and spare a review…you know how happy it makes a writer.**

OoO

_Hellfire_

OoO

_The happiest day—the happiest hour_

_My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,_

_The highest hope of pride and power,_

_I feel hath flown._

Enter Mt. Ember, a huge, spiraling mountain dwelling in the outmost reach of the Sevfii Islands. Small pools of lava bubble on its lower gray crags, while vicious plumes of noxious smog rise from small geysers near its tip. Inside Mt. Ember, though, is where it is most vicious— boiling magma froths and churns in great quantities, encircled by grooves and crags in the rock. On a particularly large, low crag there lay a monstrous nest, woven and created from the bones of several different types of Pokémon and humans. It would have been a very macabre picture if not for the cheerful Pokémon mingling around it.

All around the nest, fire Pokémon (and some miscellaneous ground Pokémon) frivolously gossiped and chatted about the recent happenings in the regions— 'Did you know that Ash hasn't become the Champion yet?' 'Aunt Betty just moved to Hoenn.' 'Why, I do believe you're shedding, Cherrie!' 'Well, I know a Rhydon who is in Team Rocket— always had a voracious appetite. Quite saddening, if you ask me.' 'When, oh when will the relatives visit, I wonder?' It was a cacophony of growls, squeaks, shrieks, roars, grumbles, and yelps, and yet the Pokémon understood each other perfectly, with the acceptation of two Magmar, who never really agreed on anything…except the agreement of never agreeing on anything. Which would therefore destroy their agreement. But that, my friends, is another story.

Sitting on one of the larger crags was a monstrous yellow bird, his wings aflame with spectacular bursts of red and orange. His beak was long, sharp, and needled, and when he spoke, it sounded not like the musical tone one would expect, but his voice was rather dark and depressing, gray skies and heavy rain.

This was Moltres.

Moltres was feeling very…_odd_ that fine day, although he hadn't the foggiest why. In fact, he had been feeling the same sour, doldrums feeling for a week now, and nothing abnormal had occurred to bring it about. Well…there had been a few occurrences, but nothing drastic: Ho-oh had invited him to go burn down some obscure tower in Jhoto with him. Ha! _Rejection_; Ho-oh was as insane as the Legendary birds could come, and he certainly would _not_ allow himself to mix up with _that_ sort of Legendary. Another thing: Articuno had sent him a messenger Pidgey to report that his eggs had hatched. Immediately, Moltres had commanded the Pidgey to send back a 'heartfelt congratulations' and a reminder that the ice bird still owed him compensation for the Seafoam Islands, which Moltres had found for Articuno.

However, he really did love—err, tolerate his relatives. It was just that…that odd feeling made him feel so gloomy. As he was sitting at that very moment, though, he felt a great desire to end his misery and bring happiness again, which he knew would take some work…and he knew exactly who to ask…

"Phineas!' he boomed, splaying his fairly obvious wings out so that all the resident Pokémon could see that he was agitated. The Pokémon gasped obediently and promptly went back to chatting. "Phineas! Come here, you ugly, stupid, worthless piece of shi—"

"I'm right here, sir," a rather pudgy Magby said, a stoic expression on his small, red, duck-like face as he balanced on a bone neatly.

"—take mushroom." Moltres blinked, scowling. "Oh, _fine_. Phineas, my dear! I need you to do something for old Uncle Moltres."

"I'm not related to you," Phineas said scathingly. "Besides, you ate my uncle."

There was an awkward silence that could only be the product of a terrible _faux pas_. The Legendary raised a non-existent eyebrow at him. "I _did_?" he asked, appalled.

"Yes; while you were circling over Cinnabar. But you didn't know it was my uncle."

"Oh," Moltres sighed, visibly relieved. For a moment, he thought he had fallen out of favor with little Phineas. "Well, my deep, deep apologies. But more important matters exist, sadly! How cruel the world is! Anyway, my dear, I've been feeling quite down recently."

"That makes two of us," the Magby mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say? Oh, it doesn't matter. Anyhoo, I'm feeling quite down. I'm not sure how, exactly, I've never felt this way before. It's quite unnerving." He shivered just thinking about it, although the temperature of the area was well over the boiling point. "I…feel as though I'm nothing, while at the same time I feel as though my great power is passing me by. The world seems so bleak…I feel as though I don't belong."

Perhaps it's a mid-life crisis," Phineas mused, "although you have another good five hundred years."

"Thank you." Moltres ruffled his feather in pride, smiling (despite it being very hard for birds to smile). "I always look the youngest compared to my relatives. Now, Phineas, what I'm asking you to do is find something who could diagnose and solve this annoying problem." Just speaking about it caused him to fly into a small fit. "They could be anyone in Kanto, Jhoto, Hoenn, or Orre—just someone who can cure me, blast it!"

Phineas neatly avoided Moltres' huge wings as the bird beat them in agitation, screeching furiously. "Err, sir, I may know what your problem is, but all I ask is that you tell me a few more symptoms," he yelled over the noise, itching the black ring around his neck nervously.

"Oh, really?" The avian brightened. "I always know I can count on you, dear Phineas. Well…hmm…" he paused, without words to describe the fearsome feeling. "I feel…I feel as though…_my heart has a deep, dark emptiness that penetrates every miserable atom and fiber of my very wretched being, which shall soon scream and writhe in the bowels of the most hateful place in all of Kanto!_" And he uttered this last phrase in a terrifying and booming voice, raspy and chilled—even some of the ghosts floating in a near memoriam tower shivered greatly. All the Pokémon turned to Moltres and he blushed red, embarrassed, and put his two wings to his beak. "Dear Mew!" he said in his normal voice, eyes widening in fear at the astounded Magby. "I told you something was wrong, damnit!"

"Yes, it does sound very grave." Phineas shook his head sadly, wringing his two paws. "I don't know how to say this, sir, but I do understand your problem."

"You _do_?" Moltres gasped in relief. "Do tell!"

Most of the Pokémon leaned in to the Legendary bird slightly, eager to hear the taboo disease. Phineas's expression darkened slightly as he said in a chilling whisper, "I'm sorry, sir, but you have a fatal case of…_angst._"

"_ARGH_!" a Rhydon screamed in a soprano voice and fainted from the very word, crushing a poor Torchic behind him.

"Please, Phineas!" an angry mother Typhlosion gasped, holding her small, quavering Cyndaquils close to her. "There are _children_ here!"

"My apologies, m'am," the Magby said humbly, bowing his head. "But it must be said."

"_Angst_?" asked Moltres skeptically, snorting with laughter. A Slugma began sobbing uncontrollably. "What's so wrong with angst?" The Pokémon flinched.

"I wouldn't say that anymore, sir," Phineas said gingerly, placing a paw on Moltres' wing. It's one of the Forbidden Words of Pokémon, along with fluff, lemon, incest, mpreg, torture, Mary Sue, Gary Stu, and cliché, to name just some. They're highly taboo."

From the sheer mass of the words, several Pokémon contemplated suicide. Most avian fire-types flew away in anger, while most other Pokémon began to fashion earplugs for themselves. Never before had such oaths been uttered…and in the presence of a Legendary, no less!

"My, my, now that I think about it, this angst—" a Ponyta whinnied nervously. "—does seem…" Moltres paused, feeling a strange tone creeping into his voice. "_Horrible. So horrible that my dark, tormented blood will curdle under it's sheer weight. And I will never live again! All my life is meanness. MEANINGLESS, I TELL YOU! What am I but…NOTHING! YES, NOTHING! WAHAHA! I'M FEELING DOWNTRODDEN TODAY, HEEHEE!_ Oh, not again!" Tears appeared in his small eyes, very rare for him. "This can't happen to me! I'll be ruined! Phineas, dear Phineas, is there _anything_ I or you can do to help me?"

The Magby sat in a deep reverie of thought, branching out all of the possible options. "Well, I suppose you could ask the Most Angst—" Pokémon flinched. "—Ridden Pokémon of them all…he is widely renown in all of the regions as not only the Most…err, _Ridden_, but as the best Pokémon to inquire on philosophy. He is…_Mewtwo_!"

"_Mewtwo_?" a Charmeleon screamed, swooning massively. "_He's soooooo hot_!"

Moltres ignored the love-enveloped dragon. "Who's this Mewtwo you speak of? He sounds…very odd."

"You don't know about him?" Phineas frowned. "_Figures_…hmm! He's a genetically mutated cat Pokémon who was created by Team Rocket. He escaped and destroyed one of their little buildings after Giovanni was training him and Mewtwo became livid."

"Huh. Do you know where he lives so that _you_ can find him?" Moltres smiled slyly.

Phineas was more than gloomy to answer. "Oh, I believe he lives in Cerulean Cave, and—wait! So _I_ can find him? But…but…you're the one who can fly!"

"Oh. You're right." The bird grinned sheepishly, standing up and stretching his wings. "Well, I suppose I should fly to Cerulean. Anyone care to come with me?"

"_ME! ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME_!" the Charmeleon shrieked voraciously, foaming a bit at the mouth. "_His voice is sooooooo sexy! I want to make him my LOVER_!"

"Mommy, what's a lover?" a baby Cyndaquil asked his mother. When she didn't respond, the small fire-type stumbled over to another Typhlosion. "Daddy, what's a—"

"Absolutely _not_!" crowed Moltres at the Charmeleon, shooing her away. "I can't have rabid _fangirls _scaring Mewtwo off!"

"Don't say that word!" Phineas howled madly, shaking his paws at the sky in utter desperation. "It's one of the Forbidden Words, you great oaf!"

However, the entire Pokémon group was already in a frenzy, shouting, clawing, vomiting, and sobbing. Moltres paid no mind to it, though, and only concentrated on what Phineas had just called him. "You dare call me an oaf?" the avian thundered, rising above the nest as he flapped his huge wings. "_You dare call me an oaf_?"

Two Blaziken watched the scene with fascination. "_Daaaaammmmmnn_…" they said simultaneously.

Phineas frowned slightly, in no mood to grovel. His life was already miserable and…_angst ridden_ enough. "Yes. I dare to call you one."

Moltres was poised in an attack position, beak lowered, every quark in his being fueled by his terrible ego…when another attack hit. The bird shook spasmodically before sputtering and choking, finally gasping, "_The world is nothing but a vast, churning road of hate and blood, only leading to death, which does not bring salvation…but torture! Yes, torture! My life is meaningless! What is life? WHAT IS LIFE, I ASK? Is life a simple puzzle missing one piece, only meant to be almost completed…and then thrown away? What is_…" his voice drifted away as he flew from the great volcano and into the sky, still carrying on about the pointlessness of life and himself. And, yes, he did indeed continue with the horrid metaphors.

There was silence for a while before someone said, "You know, Mewtwo doesn't live in Cerulean Cave anymore. He lives in a giant castle on the Kanto Sea."

An Infernape cleared her throat.

Phineas wheeled around to the voice, expression crazed. "_WHAT_?" he shrieked.

"Oh, yeah. They closed off Cerulean Cave. No one lives there."

The Magby closed his eyes for a moment, twitching, and breathed deeply. He then sighed, "Please, I need someone who I can dictate my will to."

A very awkward moment prevailed, in which the only sound was the Charmeleon, who was babbling and gesturing ridiculously (and almost in a sexual sense, mind you). Several Pokémon looked at each other, confused, wondering if the strange Magby was joking or not. Finally, Phineas looked up and glared at the Charmeleon. "What on _Kanto_ are you doing?"

The dragon paused for a moment, staring at him. "I'm speaking in tongues to summon Mewtwo, of course," she replied simply, going back to her ritual.

"Speaking in tongues," the Magby repeated quietly. This was a statement. " Speaking in tongues…_has everyone here gone completely MAD_?"

_And I ask the same thing_, another voice said. Everyone looked around until their eyes rested on another crag, where a light purple, bipedal, cat-like Pokémon stood. He looked about impatiently, grumbling telepathically, _Did anyone summon me here? You interrupted me at a rather crucial time. I was searching for the meaning of my life…as usual._

"MEWTWO!" the Charmeleon fangirl screamed, flailing her arms wildly as she ran across the crag to Mewtwo. "_FATHER MY BABIES_!" Without noticing the large space between her and the lithe cat Pokémon, she jumped from the crag, tumbled into the lava, and promptly died. Everyone was relieved.

Mewtwo furrowed his brow, levitating over to the crag where most of the Pokémon stood. _Well, that was strange_. _Now, I assume she was the one who summoned me_?

Most nodded.

_Bloody fangirl, _Mewtwo muttered under his breath. _In that case, I shall be leaving_…

"No, wait!" Phineas cried, running up in front of Mewtwo. He had to admit; he was in awe of the feline's utter melancholy. "Stop, I beg of you! I have quite an important question. You see, Moltres, the resident Legendary bird, has had a bad case of angst, and asked me to find a cure. You being the Most Angst Ridden of all, I humbly implore you…what is the cure for _angst_?"

Most fainted.

Mewtwo raised his eyebrows. _The cure for angst_? _Why, angst is a very deep and complex subject. Even I cannot fully describe its wrath and power. All I can offer to Moltres is that he should write a one-shot about his deep and powerful angst._

The rest fainted.

"Excuse me?" the Magby asked, nudging an unconscious Torchic away with his hind paw. "A one-shot?"

_Yes, a one-shot on Fanfiction. Angst one-shots are quite popular, especially when they're about prominent people or Pokémon in the regions. Writing an angst one-shot will purge Moltres of his angsty feelings, most certainly._

By the time the 'angsts' had been uttered, the Pokémon that had fainted had gone into minor comas, while the baby Cyndaquil was still hobbling around, asking what a lover was. Needless to say, no one answered him.

"Really?" Phineas asked in joy, a slow smile creeping across his face. "That's it?"

_Yes_. Then Mewtwo added, _Oh, and he may want to not only write an angst one-shot, but write dark and complex poetry as well. I suggest first reading Edgar Allan Pika if he'd like something to start with_.

"Edgar Allan Pika. Ah. The greatest macabre poet ever to grace Kanto. Certainly. Thank you _dearly_ for your help."

Mewtwo shook his head. _Just don't bother me again. I hate being around…non-intellectuals_. With that, he teleported away, and Phineas felt ultimately saved. Now, to wait for Moltres and tell him the good news…

OoO

"_PHINEAS_!"

"Oh, wonderful," the Magby mumbled, lounging near an unconscious Rhyhorn and Arcanine. He yawned and lazily looked up at the opening in the volcano, where the silhouette of Moltres was spiraling downwards. As Moltres' features began clearer and clearer, Phineas yawned again and hummed a little song to himself. After Moltres calmed down a bit, he wouldn't have to hide—and then he could tell him the good news.

"_PHINEAS_!" the bird roared again, dropping into his nest with such force that some bones flew out from it and clattered onto the ground. "_Mewtwo…wasn't…there_," he growled, craning his neck down to find the Magby, who was cleverly hidden behind the bulk of the large Rhyhorn. "_My dark heart weeps for you and I, because my soul is slowly becoming corrupted by a force so deadly that all the corpses in the land shutter to think of what power it has…WHAT IS THE MEANING OF MY LIFE?_" He paused, beak trembling, before wailing pathetically, "Oh, Phineas dear, make it stop! I can't stand it!" He then began weeping madly, throwing his long neck back with emotion. "I promise not to be mad at you!"

"Oh, very well. Don't get so worked up about it." The Magby emerged from his hiding spot, smirking victoriously, and walked though the fainted Pokémon so that he was on the edge of the crag, closest to Moltres. "Mewtwo, in fact, came here and told me that the answer to curing angst is…" he grinned.

"_Yes_?" the bird drawled, leaning forward.

"Writing an angst one-shot for Fanfiction."

"_No_!" Moltres gasped horrifically. "That's…why, that's so…argh!"

"Oh, and it would help to write angsty poetry," Phineas added smugly. He then noticed the Pokémon writhing in pain, and quickly decided to stop saying 'angst'. "These are the only known cures. I'm _terribly, terribly_ sorry, Moltres…_dear_."

"_Oh, thank you_!" the bird sobbed, pulling the small Magby into a hug. "You're the only friend I have, Phineas dear, and the best! I really didn't mean to eat your uncle, really!"

"Yes, yes, I know. All is forgiven, and the five years I spent in torturous therapy are in the past. Now…please stop hugging me." Moltres put him back on the crag. "Good. Now, do you have any ideas for your Fanfiction one-shot?"

"Hmm…" the bird furrowed his brow in thought. "I could start out, '_I sit on my perch and stare out into the vast, complex world, thinking, 'do I have a purpose in life?_'."

"Oh, Bra-_vo_. Continue, continue."

"Yes." He took a deep breath, flexing his mighty, burning wings. "Why, I feel better already! The great Moltres cannot be defeated that easily! Ha!"

Phineas smiled thinly. "Of course. Not even _angst_ will stop you."

Everyone screamed.

OoO

I hope everyone enjoyed it. I simply wrote this because everybody seems to enjoy writing angst one-shots. Don't be offended by this; it's only poking fun.

Reviews are quite nice.


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